


dick pic

by Blownwish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Humor, M/M, Tumblr request, crackish, lowkey Daddybek, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 12:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: He didn't mean to send it. Really, he didn't. It just sort of happened.





	dick pic

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [little-vanilla-eevee](https://little-vanilla-eevee.tumblr.com/)'s request: _Yuri and Otabek when they meet but Yuri “accidentally” send a dick pic after getting Otabek’s number and they end up fucking after Yuri wins gold_
> 
> Originally posted on Tumblr and barely proof read by yours, truly (as per my usual)
> 
> [thoughtsappear](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsappear/pseuds/thoughtsappear) and [softieghost](http://archiveofourown.org/users/softieghost/pseuds/softieghost) both convinced me to post this here. God help you, gentle reader, it's just a hair shy of crack.

Okay, so Yuri kind of, sort of, maybe fucked up. Maybe he sort of took a dick pick (it was just whatever) and maybe he sent it to Otabek Altin. Accidentally. He didn't mean to do it, or, at least, he would definitely take it back if he could. Oh, shit! He really fucked up!

It wasn't that bad. It was just Yuri with his track suit pulled down and his dick out. And, okay, he was stroking it - but that meant a lot of it was covered up. It was sort of not even a dick pick, more like a jerk off pic - okay, that made it actually worse.

But Otabek seemed like a cool guy. Saving Yuri from those fangirls was amazing. And on a motorcycle? Whoa - that was just the definition of cool. And Otabek was nice. Otabek said he admired Yuri a lot (his eyes, and shit), and even took him out to tea and listened to all his crap about cats and clothes and how he was the Undefeatable Ice Tiger of Russia. (Not a fairy! Not a kitten! The Motherfucking Ice Tiger!) He was pretty great, and didn't once call him arrogant or rude or childish or any of the shit Mila and Viktor accused him of being. So… he'd overlook this one thing. Right?

Hey, he never even texted him back, so maybe he just figured Yuri made a mistake and didn't want to embarrass him. Otabek was cool like that. (Please, please let him be cool like that?)

Yuri wouldn't have wanted him to get the wrong idea. Hey, Otabek was really good looking and everything? He was handsome and, okay, Yuri might've noticed that ass and maybe even checked out his training pics from some Kazakh promotional stuff he found when he (maybe) did a google image search under his name? (He did have some amazing tone. Outstanding. And, oh fuck! What was going on between his legs…?) But no. He liked Otabek as a friend. A friend.

Oh, fuck why didn't he just text him back?

++

He fucked up. He fell, just a little and it nearly cost him the gold - and what really sucked was how Katsudon beat his Free Skate program with that fucking love story bullshit he and Viktor put together. It was just as self obsessed and obnoxious as JJ’s Theme of King JJ and worse, because it was sappy fucking garbage. At least Otabek had acknowledged him before his program. That was something.

Still, he had to wonder what the hell he thought of that pic.

He stood at the podium and he smiled like an idiot while everyone got their pictures. Viktor had the nerve to stand up there - because he thinks he belongs up there forever (asshole) - and tell Yuri he was proud of him. Well, fuck you and your sappy, arrogant ass very much, Nikiforov, for always making this about you. Yuri hated how everyone managed to do just that - because guess who was coming back to men's? What a giant dickhead!

Yuri wished he could actually bitch about this to Otabek. He was one of the few skaters who didn't worship at the Altar of Nikiforov. He actually said Viktor was over rated. (See? He really was cool!) But another, actual dickhead was sort of, probably getting in the way.

Yuri decided to spend the night moping in his hotel room. His Exhibition Skate was tomorrow and fuck all if he could deal with this crap, because he had to skate to more of Lilia’s ballerina shit. He needed a hot shower, some ibuprofen, and sleep.

Who knew winning gold would suck this bad? Fuck life.

++

So someone wanted to die, because this someone was knocking on his hotel room door at 2am. “Go fuck yourself!” Yuri probably shouldn't have yelled. Not in a hotel in the middle of the night. Besides, they probably didn't speak Russian.

Except they did. “Open the door.” And it wasn't any-old-they. It was him.

Otabek Altin.

Why?

Yuri fell out of bed and practically ran to the door. His mind stumbled in a foggy haze and all he could think was _go!_ as he threw open the door.

And there he was, gorgeous-cool in his leather jacket, holding up his phone. And there was Yuri, on the screen, jerking on his dick. “You sent me this.”

Yuri suddenly wished he slept in something more dignified than tiger print boxer briefs. “I can explain.”

Otabek stepped inside, staring like he never saw Yuri before and he was trying to figure out what to do with him. Well, maybe he knew he wanted to back Yuri up against a wall, because that's what he did. Backed him up and - oh, fuck! - slammed his hands against it as he kept staring. “What is there to explain? It is very clear.”

“I, uh, it was a mistake?”

Otabek shook his head and leaned in. Close. Very close. “I spent the last two days wondering how the hell you could send me something like this and pretend you never sent it. Do you know what this sort of picture makes a man think?”

“That I'm… gay?” What was he supposed to say?

He was so close now. So close Yuri could smell the mint on his breath and feel his leather jacket brushing against his naked skin. He shivered. “It makes me think you're a very dirty boy who doesn't know when he's playing with fire, Yuri Plisetsky. Do you make a habit of sending men you barely know pictures like this?”

“No! You're the only person I've ever-”

A finger was over his mouth. In his mouth. Otabek’s finger. Holy shit. “Only me?” He pushed his knee between his legs. Smiled as Yuri looks into his eyes for answers because he didn't know what to do or feel or think or anything, now. “That's good. That's very good. Because you're not ever going to send anyone else anything like that picture. Nod for yes.”

Oh oh oh! Hell, yes! Yuri couldn't nod enough.

“You need someone to make sure of that. Someone to keep you in check.” Otabek pulled his finger out. And when he fucking licked it? Yuri’s knees buckled. But he didn't fall, because Otabek was there to hold him up. “You kiss?”

“I - I never - not kissed.”

Otabek searched his face. “But you've done other things.” Yuri shrugged and tried to look away, but Otabek wouldn't let him. He, gently, cupped his cheek and made Yuri look him in the eye. “None of that matters, anymore. I'll take care of you, now.”

“Take care of me?”

“Like this.” Otabek’s lips were so close to his. “Open your mouth.” Yuri did. “Close your eyes.” This moment, just before Otabek’s lips touched his, was the last moment of Yuri Plisetsky’s childhood.


End file.
